


Pay It Forward

by argentumlupine



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Community: bandom_meme, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 10:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentumlupine/pseuds/argentumlupine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Frank takes care of someone who is sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pay It Forward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lucifuge5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/gifts).



> For [this prompt at bandom_meme](http://bandom-meme.dreamwidth.org/7677.html?thread=357117#cmt357117).
> 
> Thanks to Ande for the beta and title! :)

1.

Frank is tired of driving, but no one else is up to it right now. Everyone else is huddled under blankets, asleep, shivering through fevers. Frank’s got the heat up as high as it will go, but he’s still worried they’re all too cold. He sighs. He’d tried to keep to himself when he was sick last week, but close quarters and concerned friends now means that, despite his best efforts, everyone has caught what he’d had. At least they have two days for travel before their next show. Everyone should be back on their feet by then.

He hopes.

They’d planned to sleep in the van this leg of the trip, but Frank doesn’t think it’s a good idea, with all of them sick. He checks their cash supply when he stops for gas late that afternoon and decides that yes, there is enough money for a cheap motel room, especially since no one seems interested in food right now. So when he sees a billboard advertising rooms for less than 30 bucks, he takes the exit and checks in, shrugging to himself. They’ve stayed in worse places. He flips the sheets down so he can just roll the others into bed and goes to get them.

Frank hauls Ray out of the van first. He’d thought about grabbing Otter, since he’s in the passenger seat, but decided he’d better leave easy for last. Ray’s tucked in the back corner of the van. Frank has to pull one of the merch boxes out and set it on the pavement before he can get to Ray.

He shakes Ray’s shoulder. Ray makes a noise of complaint.

“Come on, man. I got you a bed.”

Ray pries his eyes open. “Bed?”

“Yeah. Come on.”

Ray sways on his feet a little bit, but he nods at Frank. “M’okay,” he says, and stumbles through the motel room door. Frank hears him hit the mattress. One down.

There’s a tangle of Way brothers in the middle seat. Frank grabs a foot and tugs. “Bedtime,” Frank says.

Mikey and Gerard sit up, blinking. “What?” Gerard asks, rubbing at his eyes.

Frank jerks his chin toward the open doorway as he pulls on Mikey’s arm. “Go before Otter beats you to it.”

They go.

Now that they’re out, Frank can get at everyone’s bags. He slings the duffels to the pavement and slams the back door, patting his pocket to be sure he’s got the keys. He opens the passenger door.

“I heard,” Otter says around a yawn. “I’m coming.”

Frank helps Otter into the room and dumps him on the empty bed, shaking his head at how Ray, Gerard, and Mikey have sprawled on the other one. He makes everyone sit up and drink a cup of orange juice and swallow some cold/flu medicine before he tucks them in and sets the alarm for 11 a.m. Checkout is noon. Extra sleep will help.

“Thanks,” Otter says beside him. Frank pats his head and turns off the light.

 

2.

Being stuck in a bunk with a sick Mikey isn’t exactly good times, but Frank figures he owes Mikey, so he doesn’t complain about Mikey’s sharp chin or how heavy he feels, sprawled half-over Frank. Instead, Frank cards his fingers through Mikey’s hair (which feels kind of disgusting, all greasy and sweaty) and lets him sleep. He’ll get up in a little while and make Mikey some soup. Assuming they have soup.

Frank looks longingly at his bunk, where he can see his headphones sitting on his pillow. Music would be awesome right now. But that would mean disturbing Mikey, and he can’t bring himself to do it.

So Frank shifts a little to get as comfortable as he can and tries to sleep. He dozes off and on through the afternoon and tries not to fidget too much when he’s awake. It probably doesn’t matter. Mikey is dead to the world, sticky and limp and looking like a miserable gangly kitten. It would probably be really adorable if Frank weren’t trapped under him.

When Gerard gets back from whatever interviews he and Ray had been doing, he crouches next to Mikey’s bunk and smoothes Mikey’s hair back from his forehead. “I can take over, if you want.”

Frank shrugs. “I got him.”

Mikey makes a quiet noise and cuddles even closer to Frank. Frank’s not sure how that’s possible, but Mikey manages it. “See?” Frank asks. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”

Gerard smiles softly and runs his fingers through Mikey’s hair again, then pats Frank’s head. “Thanks.”

Frank shrugs again. “It’s Mikey, man. I got this.”

 

3.

Frank can count on one hand the number of times Ray has been sick on tour because Ray, the lucky bastard, is usually pretty healthy. He gets headaches often, though, and tends to get pretty cranky when he’s not feeling well. So Frank knows as soon as he gets back to the bus and finds Ray stretched out on the couch with his arm over his eyes that it’s quiet time.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You want—”

Ray sits up and pulls his sunglasses off. He glares at Frank. “I am _fine_. Go away.”

Frank lifts an eyebrow in reply. “You sure about that?” He wiggles his fingers. “Really sure?”

Ray opens his mouth, then closes it. “Okay,” he grumbles as he lies down. “Sure, work your magic.”

“Don’t sound so grateful. I can go put these fingers to work somewhere else.”

Ray doesn’t respond. Frank takes pity on him and sits down on the floor next to the couch. “Anything on your mind?” Frank asks.

Ray just hums, sinking into the couch when Frank starts rubbing his temples. Frank doesn’t pry. Gerard and Mikey always need to talk it out. With Gerard, you have to push until he starts talking and then just listen until he’s done ranting. With Mikey, you have to sit and wait until he’s ready and then you can talk things out with him. Ray, though. Ray will brood whether you’re there or not, and when he’s ready to talk he’ll decide whose advice he wants and go find _them_ , even if you’re sitting right next to him. 

So Frank lets it go and tells Ray about the prank Cortez had played on Gerard earlier, and about the mishap at catering that had Brian chewing out a guy three times his size, and about Pete’s latest attempts to win Patrick’s undivided attention.

He keeps talking until the line between Ray’s eyebrows smoothes out and some of the tension eases from Ray’s muscles. “You want a Coke or coffee or anything?” Frank asks.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“’Kay.” Frank taps a quick beat against Ray’s forehead and ducks when Ray tries to slap him upside the head. He darts out of the bus, not even caring when he realizes he left his book behind.

 

4.

“I can stay and—”

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

“Come on, Mikey, he’ll be fine.”

“I got this, okay? Go.”

“Are you sure?”

Frank makes a frustrated noise. “Look, I’ve cared for sick people before. I’ve cared for _Gerard_ when he’s been sick before. It’s fine. You’re going to be late for wrestling unless you leave now.”

Mikey gives him a long look, then lets Ray pull him out the door. Frank sighs and goes back to the studio lounge, where Gerard is curled up in the corner of the couch with his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.

“I can take care of myself,” Gerard grumbles.

Frank raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

Gerard scowls. “I can!”

“Mm-hm.”

“I totally—get out of here, go with them. I’ll be fine on my own. I can drive home. I’ll be fine.” Gerard sets the empty coffee mug on the table so he can use his hands while he rants.

Frank leans a shoulder against the doorjamb and waits. He looks around the room. Checks his fingernails. Cracks his knuckles. Looks back at Gerard. Finally, when Gerard’s ranting ends in a bout of coughing, Frank sits down next to him and rubs his back. When Gerard gets his breath back, he moans and leans against Frank, pressing his face into Frank’s shoulder.

“Yeah, picture of health,” Frank says.

Gerard flips him off.

Frank shakes his head. “Okay, here’s the plan: I’m going to go get some stuff and you’re going to take a nap. Then I’m taking you home, where we will watch movies on your absurdly giant TV and you’ll sleep if you’re tired. And you aren’t going to argue with me. Got it?”

Gerard blinks up at him. “Okay?” he says.

“Great. Give me your keys.”

“Why?”

“Ah-ah! No arguing.” He wants to make sure Gerard can’t do something stupid, like try to drive home. Gerard gives him a confused look, but hands Frank the keys. Frank eases Gerard down on the couch. “Sleep. I’ll be back in a little while.”

“’Kay.”

Frank raids the pharmacy and Starbucks and puts in an order at the good Vietnamese restaurant down the street from Gerard’s place. When he gets back to the studio, Gerard is sacked out on the couch.

Frank shakes his shoulder until Gerard blinks and sits up, then hands him a cupful of cough syrup. “Check it out: meds.”

Gerard makes a face, but knocks back the cough syrup. He shudders. “Please tell me you got more coffee.”

Frank flashes him a grin. “Dude, do you think I don’t _know you_?” He hands Gerard his coffee. “Up and at ‘em, time to go.”

“You are enjoying this way too much.”

Frank grins. “It’s nice not to be the mucousy one for once. Now let’s go. I ordered pho. If we don’t pick it up soon it’s going to be cold. Do you want cold soup?”

Gerard doesn’t argue after that.

 

5.

Frank knows it isn’t funny. Food poisoning is never funny. And with all the vomiting going on, it’s actually pretty disgusting. But he’s feeling vindicated. Every one of the vegetarians—okay, anyone who ate the vegetarian meal catering brought last night—is just fine.

It’s a good thing it’s a hotel night, is all he can say. He opens the door to the room Ray and Gerard are sharing. Ray’s curled up on the bed by the window, looking pale and sweaty and miserable. He waves weakly at Frank and shuts his eyes again. Frank sets a can of ginger ale and a bottle of Gatorade on the nightstand next to him and squeezes his shoulder briefly before he follows the sounds of misery into the bathroom.

“Should’ve skipped the meat,” Frank says as he kneels down beside Gerard. Gerard glares at him. Frank rubs his back and winces when Gerard throws up again.

“Fuck you,” Gerard manages once he’s done. “Self-righteous asshole.”

Frank hands him a ginger ale. “Drink up.”

“I hate you.”

Frank pulls him to his feet. “Drink your ginger ale. As soon as I can track down crackers or toast I’ll bring you some.”

“Don’t mention food to me,” Gerard says. He presses the ginger ale to his forehead and closes his eyes, a pained expression on his face. “Please don’t mention food.”

Frank holds up his hands. “Okay, okay. I’m gonna go check on Mikey. Call if you need something.”

Mikey’s on the floor in the bathroom, looking so pitiful it actually hurts. Frank sits down next to him.

“Hey, Mikeyway,” he says.

Mikey groans. “Go away.”

“Hey, not nice being all cranky. I come bearing gifts.” Frank sets the can of ginger ale on the floor by Mikey’s head. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“Right. You’re a saint.”

“Oh, stop, I’m blushing.”

Mikey slits an eye open and scowls.

Frank sighs. “You need anything?”

Mikey shakes his head. “Leave me to die in peace,” he says, and pillows his head on his arm. Frank rolls his eyes. _Ways_ , honestly.

“Okay, no,” Frank says. “No sleeping on the bathroom floor.” He grabs Mikey’s arm and tugs. “Up.”

“It’s cool. Feels nice.” Mikey tries to hug the floor. Seeing as the floor is all flat and floor-like, this doesn’t go well. Frank knows from experience that hugging the toilet works better. Still.

“Bed will feel better, trust me. UP.” Frank gets his hands under Mikey’s armpits and hauls him up. Mikey blinks.

“I forget you’re stronger than you look.”

“Don’t you know it. Bed. Now.”

“Fine.” Mikey stumbles to the bed and flops down. “Happy?”

“Yup. Sleep tight.” He heads for the door.

“Floor is still cooler.”

Frank turns to see Mikey giving him a grumpy look. It’s not a very effective one, since Mikey’s face is all smushed into the pillow, but Frank gets it and goes to turn on the air conditioning full blast. He gives Mikey a mocking salute and goes back into the hall.

He’s sitting on the floor in the hall between rooms, engrossed in his book, when Worm drops a box of saltines and a sub sandwich in his lap without breaking stride. Frank laughs. “Thanks, man!” he calls after Worm. Worm waves an arm vaguely in the air and disappears into another room.

When Frank’s done eating, he delivers some of the saltines to Ray and Gerard’s room—they’re both out cold—and brings the other ones into his and Mikey’s room.

“Food if you’re hungry,” he says.

Mikey shakes his head on the pillow.

That’s cool. Frank knows he’ll be hungry later. He settles in on the other bed with his book. He’ll be here if any of them need anything.


End file.
